


high school never ends

by inacolloquialsense



Category: Impractical Jokers
Genre: Bullying, Cuddling, Groping, Homophobia, M/M, Rough handling, Self-Hatred, heavy petting and making out, high school emotions, self improvement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 04:31:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12148674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inacolloquialsense/pseuds/inacolloquialsense
Summary: bullying to bumping uglies





	high school never ends

**Author's Note:**

> a string of rp responses smushed together

‘Brian….Brian….now, just hold up one sec-’

MURR doesn’t have half a chance to say anymore. Brian Quinn’s palm is pressing against his Adams apple, fingers clawing at the sides of his neck. Eyes of fury! MURR squirms against the pressure but Brian has the upper hand, using his force to push the two of them backwards until MURR hits the wall, breath lost before he can gasp it in. His chest feels heavy and swollen at the loss and any intention he has to fight is gone. 

MURR straightens out his neck as best he can, giving himself enough space to finally draw in a shallow but much needed breath.

‘Brian,’ MURR gasps, voice ragged from the assault. He raises his hands slowly, a sign of deference and giving up to the taller boy. Brian’s face is a stew of consternation in front of him- brow set in a line, mouth determined, gaze of fury.

‘I fucked up, buddy. But when they asked me if I saw anything I-I-I just told the truth. That you were the only person around the desk drawer that day. I didn’t know the test papers had gone missing! I-I-I swear-’  
\---------------------------------------------------  
Q pictures a cat with a mouse between his paws. Except the mouse is a lying coward who is so self-invested he never thinks about how his actions will affect his friends. Quinn tightens his grip for a moment to feel Murr’s pulse spike.

“You’re telling your version of the truth. We both know people come in and out of that classroom every day.” Quinn pulls James forward to slam him back against the painted concrete wall. “But you are the only person who squealed my name to the teacher. The only one to know I wasn’t prepared for Mrs. Lanzella’s test.”

James began to turn a lovely shade of pink. Quinn stared into his watery eyes for a second longer before letting go. Disappointment flooded his face. He turned away, wiping his mouth with the meat of his palm. A deep breath later and he could look up.

“You know what happens to most rats? They get their heads smashed in.” Q was mostly impressed by the sheer fact that Murr didn’t run away when he had the chance. Though maybe he was too out of breath.

Brian pressed his hand to his temple. “I don’t know why you do this to me. Did I not offer you protection? Was I not a good friend to you?” His arms are open as if to reach out, but James doesn’t move closer. Q walks a step towards him. Fingers splay out on Murray’s freshly pressed shirt. Heart still beating fast as ever. “C’mon. Do your thing. Convince me.”  
\----------------------------------------------------  
‘Ow!… _Brian_!‘ 

Voice loud, as though he might attract some attention from the other kids threading their way through the hall in an effort to get to their next class. But he knows better in his heart- when it comes to confrontations, everyone stays out of business that doesn’t involve them. Unspoken law of high school.

MURR’s eyes go wide as Brian redoubles his efforts, pulling him away before slamming him back into the wall again, as though he’s trying to shake the answer out of him like loose change from a pocket. Only then, Quinn changes gears. Releases him, leaving MURR’s entire being shaky as it realises it has to stand up without Quinn’s furious support. 

MURR looks down at the big hand on his chest, big fingers splayed over his heart. The sincerity is unexpected and MURR’S eyes widen as he looks back up at the other boy. 

'Your name was…it was the first that came to mind! You’re strong, you can handle the scrutiny, Bri! The rest of us would go to pieces under Lanzella’s tactics!' 

MURR hopes it’s taken as the compliment it’s meant to be, that it soothes the raw piece of anger standing in front of him. He’d taken a risk turning out Brian Quinn’s name but his was truly the first name that had come to mind when pressed. Giving a name would earn him another sliver of leeway, would allow his superiors to turn their heads at some of his more foolish actions and not result in a black mark on his record….MURR just hadn’t expected it to end up with Quinn’s hands on him outside the science block, practically squeezing the confession outta him. 

'I know friends don’t rat on friends but I thought they might just ask you about it. I am so so sorry!’ MURR makes a hopeful expression out of his features. 

Jeez, the least he could do is seem contrite and so he attempts it with as much exaggeration as he can. That might save him. 

'Are you in…any trouble? What’s gonna happen?’ MURR pulls back at the last moment from adding 'to us’, not sure if it’d be appreciated, folding as much concern into his voice as he can.  
\---------------------------------------------------------  
Q’s ostensibly made himself into a human lie detector. The trouble being James’ pulse rate was already so quick it’s hard to tell what’s happening. He watches Murray through a slightly furrowed brow. 

“Okay. Sure.”

It makes sense. He doesn’t want it to make sense. Quinn wishes more than anything that in this moment Murr was a worse liar. Making his hand into a fist, he wrinkles James’ uniform shirt. Tries to get across the point of ‘please don’t be fucking with me again’ in a look.

“I want so badly to believe you.” He gestures while he speaks and slowly shakes Murray as result. “It would make my life so easy if I could trust you.” His palm sweats through the fabric, and he’s pulled out of his head by the sound of wingtip shoes against linoleum. Teacher. When he faces the footsteps he finds they’re of someone walking out of their class and away from he and Murr.

He sighs again, this time for relief. “I don’t know what to make of you and your excuses.” 

Pride is swelling his good will. The thought that James might find him strong or tougher than others isn’t a bad one. Still, nothing is fixed from this interaction. The ‘truth’ that’s out in between them is all Q’s gonna get, and more damage will occur as a result of any harsher interrogation. He cuts his losses. Lets go, again, but this time he holds James’ shoulders gently to keep him still.

“No bullshit.” He says to clarify his next statements. “I like you. I consider you a good friend. For these years we’ve spent together, I will accept what you say.” James relaxes in front of him. “Please do not make this a habit. Even the most forgiving man has his breaking point.”

A weight lifts off his shoulders. No longer burdened with the idea of having to show retribution to his friend. He steps back smiling, not entirely sure when he got so close to begin with. It all seems funny. Laughter bubbles out from his lips, and when he covers his mouth he smells James’ cologne. It’s the good stuff. Quinn’s got no doubts that some of the funds Murr gains from various methods gets dumped towards buying it.

He drops his hands to his sides then moves them to his pockets. There’s still that urge to touch he needs to weed out of himself. “I’ve gotta write a two page report on stealing, and I’m gonna miss all of next week’s play practices.” Shoulders lift in a shrug. “Could be worse. Detention is basically study hall after school. Maybe I’ll be able to grab a few winks.”  
\-----------------------------------------------------  
Perhaps Quinn can smell his fear? Maybe that why he lets go of MURR and tells him these things. God, it would be so much easier if Quinn could trust him…their friendship has, to MURR, always been one of a strained admiration between the two. And that had made his lie so easy to pull off; oh, he knew Quinn could handle the retribution, and it had been built upon that truth for MURR. Water off a duck’s back, no outward fear of the consequences…he just seemed to bristle against any onslaught of punishment and ride it out.

Quinn just stares at MURR, his face hard and then suddenly it all seems to be over. MURR is released more gently and he smoothes out the front of his shirt, irked by the finger creases, resolving to pull his sweater across it later and cover the evidence. In his heart, MURR feels as though that pair of them might have reached a frosty understanding. MURR feels as though he’s dodged a bullet this time, and with a more confident voice he commiserates with Brian about the loss of practices and such. ‘I can help you with the report if you want, bud. Least I can do.’ MURR offers meekly. When Quinn starts to walk he follows; he wants to be deferent in this moment because although he’s walked the hot coals, the soles of his feet are still burning from the encounter. 

‘That’s some bullshit punishment, Brian. They’re cutting off their noses to spite their faces. Losing their leading man and all.’ Although it’s meant as a superficial salve, MURR truly means it- Quinn is some sort of majestic thing up on stage, commanding eyes towards him. So much more measured than the careless boy who doesn’t do consequences. And that’s where MURR senses their common ground is, splitting their personalities to suit. Quinn can be equally as charming and intimidating in one fell swoop and MURR sees him as someone he could learn a great deal from. 

MURR feels braver, falls into step into step beside Brian as they head for the science block exit. MURR pulls a couple of heavy history books from his bag and collects them in the crook of his arm. 'Hey, maybe you should set up a rival production. Go West Side Story on their asses. Some sort of meta theatre.’ MURR shrugs as the turn the corner. 'Wanna meet me outside the gymnasium after detention’s done? We can do something. I dunno.’  
\------------------------------------------------------------  
From where he’s standing Q can see a clock through the window into a classroom. In ten minutes his lunch is over and he has to go to Mr. Ponderosa’s for English. “Thanks, man, but I can handle two pages. She said I could double space.” A few steps to his destination and he’s pleased to find Murr following him.

Quinn leans gently and bumps shoulders with him. Enjoys the moment when James pushes back. There’s hope in his heart. The ground sees his smile. He looks up and shifts hair from his line of vision when Murr keeps talking. _Ugh compliments_ , he thinks. “Guy, relax. You don’t have to kiss my ass. I know I’m shit on stage.”

Up there with all eyes on him. Blinded by the spotlight and sweating in poly blend, skin tight atrocities. There’s such a rush to it. Stripping himself of identity and playing out the life of someone else. He finds appeal in escaping from reality for the time he’s acting. Maybe it’s not so hard to see why Murray’s so fond of lying. Some day Q’d like to swap notes with him. Review and revise all the intricacies of deception and mayhem making.

“It’s unlikely that I could start anything up in just a week, and anyways, it’d be a pain in the ass to round up enough kids.” 

He ignores the knots his stomach is turning itself into. “I am gonna miss seeing you, though.” He reaches blindly into his bag and finds a pen. It spins around his fingers as he thinks. Fuck it, he might as well try. He grabs James’ free wrist, stops them dead in their tracks, and yanks his sleeve up. It is fairly legible for writing on such a mobile canvas. “Relax, dude. I just wanna give you my number.”

He ponders the creepiness factor in telling another guy his skin feels nice. Soft. Probably best to keep some things to himself, but god damn if James is not as smooth as his silver tongue. Quinn blows over the ink to make sure it dries and watches goosebumps rise. Stares up into the eyes of his captive audience. “I’d love to see you after detention.”  
\-----------------------------------------------------------  
When he’s told Q will miss seeing him MURR looks up at the other and gives a half smile, one that doesn’t truly complete how he’s feeling inside. And then his arm is grabbed and Quinn’s hand, curled in towards his wrist as he writes, leaves a string of digits. Something’s turned- MURR’S shown something of his self, his inner workings to Q and it’s got him here. It’s a showy bravery, one done for effect that’s already reaping rewards.

When Q’s done MURR sort of stares down at his arm, half in disbelief. This has gotta be a sign of progression, right? Like being let into the inner circle. He can contact Q’s house now, leave him messages, make plans outside the confines of face to face contact, of this place….MURR sweeps a thumb over the drying numbers, bringing off a little ink.

‘I’ll see you then. Meet you out front?’

MURR has enough time to go home, shower and palm some more cologne of his neck. He rattles through his homework and, when his dad leaves the kitchen, pockets a couple of beers. Q likes beer and although MURR hates the taste, he can stomach it for the sake of this. To impress. He has a feral need to impress others, to be what they want- no, _need_ \- it’s the only way he knows how to operate. Truth of it all is he wants Q to be close to him. Always has. Together, they make quite the pair.

As he walks the last few blocks back to the High School, he thinks about what he’s done. Jeez, a risky move and a half but it seems to have paid dividends, got him Q’s number….sometimes showing your more human side, the flesh of your weakness, can do wonders for you.

MURR can already see Q waiting out front, frame spread out as he leans against the railings. He looks as impressive as ever and MURR finds his step gathering a little more pace.

‘Hey, Brian. Oh, here.’ MURR fumbles in his pocket and pulls out one of the beer bottles and passes it over.

‘Where do you wanna go?’  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
An hour and a half of staring at a blank chalk board. Thrilling. They must have turned up the AC just to freeze him. Locked in this chill chest all by his lonesome. After finishing his work all he can do is sit there with a thumb up his ass. He sets his head on the desk, marvelling at the chill running up through his cheek.

“NO SLEEPING.”

He bolts up just in time to see the door slam back shut. The old crow of a nun must have a sixth sense. He didn’t think he fell asleep, but they took the clocks away. Hard to tell what’s happening on the outside in a class with no windows.

A few lifetimes later and Mrs. Deandra lets him escape. Set loose, the first thing he does is rush to the front of the school. The sun greets him and warms his bones. He shoves his jacket in his bag and basks in the light. 

A shock of worry bolts through his head. James isn’t coming. Or he missed him. Or it was all a big ruse to get away from a fight. Murr went straight home to scrub his arm and laugh about how he fooled Q into letting him slide. No, no no. There’s feeling there. He felt the blood coursing through Murr’s veins. Saw the expressions change and evolve as they’ve gotten to know each other. Brian calms himself. Takes stock of the day ahead. 

Maybe James would like to walk in the park. He’s never seen the other kid outside the borders of campus, even out of his uniform for that matter. Probably preppy. Seems like the type to like bow ties or button downs. He’d look good in anything, really.

Brian hears someone walking and doesn’t move a muscle. His eyes stay on the tree blowing in the wind. His ears twitch. They seem to be getting faster, closer. Caught daydreaming about his friend. Shit. His name’s called out, and relief floods him when he finds the voice to be familiar.

Q takes a breath in and tries to stop himself from smiling so big. “Good to see you, buddy.”

A confused look flickers on his face when James goes digging in his pockets, but it quickly turns to delighted surprise. “Dude, score.” He takes the bottle and claps James on the back. “I was thinking about walking around, but I didn’t know you’d bring libations.” He hooks his arm with Murray’s and pulls him. Behind the school is a courtyard, and behind that lies a rarely populated collection of trees with their names on it. “I know a good spot where we can enjoy these. After we can set off into the city.”  
\---------------------------------------------------------  
Perhaps it’s the relief of being out of detention, or the beer- whatever it is as they stand together MURR notices that Brian’s lips are still shaped by that big smile. It alters his face, teases a lightness from him that seems to be reserved for rare occasions. Without the cover of his school jacket, bare arms running like pale spires against the fractious sunlight, Brian’s usual darkness is not out in force, he’s not under its rapture. 

MURR grabs the opportunity to take stock of the cut of Brian’s chest and belly under the thin fabric. Can see outlines of another world. MURR’s grin grows vacant before he pulls himself back by taking a slug of his beer, trying to match Brian’s intake. The fizz burns the back of his throat and he feels his eyes fraught for tears and so he turns away momentarily. When he returns his eyes to the other his own are settled, no more leaky eyes, no more giving away secrets he’d rather keep hidden. ‘I hope it wasn’t too painful, bud. Oh my god, was it bad, Brian? Did that old bitch really twist the screws?’ MURR is interested, but it’s kind of a self serving interest- Brian’s treatment might dictate how this outing goes. 

They’re free, their fucking free of the usual constraints of the others and if the school. 

His head is some sort of cotton fluff due to the beer and so when Brian hooks him with an arm, taking charge of their direction, MURR doesn’t argue. They arrive at one of the trees that they cherish during the hotter days. Cigarette butts litter the stumpy turned up earth around the roots, discarded soda cans and candy wrappers lending their own imprint to the place. It takes this deciduous corner of their world and brings it round to something less removed from what they’re used to, and what they are. ‘Ooh, we could hit that, that place in thingy street- the one where you can catch a titty for like a few dollars.’. 

The beer has softened his fear and rigid control, bought about a freer mouth that he’s happy to share with Brian. He toasts the thin air and then sinks down with a heavy sigh, sprawling back onto the hard ground. Suddenly MURR’S giggling, body arching off the ground as he let’s out laugh after laugh. He’s not sure what he’s laughing at but there’s a supreme bubble in his gut, in his heart that’s lifting him up and he’s got Brian out here, planning to go to the city with him, on his own terms too! MURR feels as though he’s done something amazing! 'I mean, unless you have anything else in mind?’  
\----------------------------------------------------------  
He fiddles with the bottle, twisting the cap. Nearly tearing a hole in his hand before covering the metal with his shirt to try again. He pockets the top and takes liberal gulps. What can he say about the taste of beer. Aromatic tones of aged subway urine with the decadent flavors of an especially vibrant vomiting session. He chokes it down fast. There’s encouragement when he sees Murr seems to be struggling as well.

“They couldn’t hurt a big, strong guy like me.” He jokes, flexing his muscles. Unintentionally pulling James close enough for their sides to mash together. There’s nothing on him. Q can only assume Murr was made by draping skin over a skeleton. He’s amused by how Murray’s a lightweight in every sense of the word.

Speaking truthfully Quinn’s not an individual with a high tolerance, at least not today when he skipped lunch and spent all day running on fumes. “More than anything I’d like to grab something to eat after this.” They step past the boundaries of well manicured grass. Brian kicks away some larger pieces of refuse and takes his place besides James. He digs through his bag and pulls out his jacket, folding it to create a makeshift pillow for the both of them.

“Yeah, I guess.” He’s less than enthusiastic. Aware of all of the shady characters who typically show up at the joint Murray describes. “Or I know a good comic book store that’s not far off. The guy knows me and maybe we could get some booze out of him.” He doesn’t really need any more. Where he’s at is a good level of haziness. His brain’s shut off from most worry but still there enough to stop him from making a move he couldn’t backtrack from. “I’m up for anything you want.”

James is a gigglebox beside him, and it’s hard not to find it infectious. He didn’t hear the joke, half suspects there wasn’t one, but Q laughs with him.   
\------------------------------------------------------  
‘Comic book store?’

MURR senses a half victory- the suggestion of catching a titty was more something he assumed he should say, another attempt to dress his words to impress. 

He grins over at Brian as the other talks about more booze. More booze…he’s not sure he can handle anymore, doesn’t have a fucking clue what his tolerance he has at this point but their plans are unfolding and taking on a shape that’s just them. He’s happy. Brian seems happy too; he’s laughing, face shifting again to assume another expression that MURR’S not all too used to seeing. 

‘Up for anything I want? Ooh, boy!’ MURR faux winces as his friend’s laughter slowly starts to die. MURR rolls with an awkward harrumph onto his side, inadvertently pitching his nose into Brian’s jacket for a moment. He takes full advantage, inhaling desperately, quickly through his nose, like a fox sniffing for prey. He catches a glimpse of Brian mapped through those smells; cigarettes strangling the deft scent of soap that lingers beneath, some sort of candy…….

‘Comic books sound good, man. Take me into your world, senpai!’

The repose they’re taking up, it’s like two characters in a film shooting the shit and espousing dreams to MURR. Laid out under a tree, bodies close but not touching, some sort of fairytale that’s translating better than he ever thought it would from the screen to his life. MURR blinks once, twice but nope, still here. Still like this. A grin sparks his face and he props himself up a little, hovering over Brian’s face. He looks down at the other and he feels magisterial for a moment, and in that moment he decides he can ask the other whatever the hell he likes. The confidence that’s come from scraping through the whole Lanzella incident and still retaining this friendship- perhaps even being closer for it- leaves at some sort of advantage. He pokes Brian in the shoulder, ensuring his attention, before speaking.

‘You know one thing I’ve always wanted to ask ya, Brian Quinn? Is all that stuff about you and Maggie Trulto true? I mean, did you really…’ MURR says, raising an eyebrow for effect, ‘…… **really** finger her under the bleachers?’  
\---------------------------------------------------------------  
The way Murr asks makes Quinn squirm a little. He gave a piece of himself away without even realizing. Murray’s got that kind of face he wants to tell everything to. It’s not so scandalous that he might like comics. He’s a red blooded American. There are few Wonder Woman comics with pages worn thin from ‘rereading’, and some Batman issues that he’d rather not disclose. 

“First thing to teach you is to not call me senpai.” Brian somehow found a comfortable position to lay back on the uneven terrain. Staring up he picks out patterns where sunlight peeks between thick layers of leaves. Imagining it to be the star studded night sky he’s never had growing up in the light pollution filled city. A bit delirious from the drink, but his giddiness might more pertain to his proximity to James.

Inside his chest is fluttering, soft but persistent. Getting stronger every millimeter Murr crosses into his personal space. Almost touching. From the short distance he can feel James radiating heat. It figures he’d be a little powerhouse with all of the energy he has. Were he less chicken shit Q’d close the gap. For now he’s incredibly delighted to be where he is.

And suddenly the distance shrinks even more.

Quinn’s never had to look up to see James. New angle, new outlook. Yet still just as hot. How’s that fair. All Q wants is to cup Murray’s face in his hands to bring him close and admire him with more senses, but words are being put together in sentences. In fact, to be specific, questions. He doesn’t expect, need, or want these questions.

His face indicates his surprise, as well. “W-what do you mean?” He says, but it’s coming out fast, smushed to be more similar to whaddayamean. “I’m not gonna kiss and tell. Haha. There’s no telling where my hands go. I can’t help being so popular.” Going over past conquests to the guy he’s currently trying to suit, not exactly the date material he had running in his head before. The odd juxtaposition doesn’t seem to faze his friend. Holes might form in the back of Brian’s head with the way Murr’s laser focused on him.

James is tantalizingly near, lording over Quinn with a look that says he’s what’s for dinner. Was it really necessary for him to impair Q’s judgement with beer _and _be this attractive at the same time. He’s being baited. Some kind of hormone party kicked off in Brian’s brain, and he’s flushed, a hair away from whining like a bitch in heat. He licks his lips and laughs, more out of nerves than anything. “A lot of stuff happens when nobody’s looking.”__  
\-----------------------------------------------------------  
His boyish bravado remains as he listens to Brian brush off the whole thing. It had made the other boy a stud in the eyes of a student body and MURR had heard about it from a few various schoolmates. It had almost become the stuff of legends. Funny how it made the others look at him in a new light- MURR included. 

__The approval that followed Brian around the school after the rumour grew wings and flew was infectious, and Brian became some sort of hero. He’d done it- no longer had to wonder what it was like to touch another, to have them so **close**. _ _

__MURR stares down and listens as Brian deflects his moment with Maggie, reduces in into a smart mouth comment in that smooth, measured way he has. As he goes on about about where his hands have been. Instinctively MURR’S eyes flicker to the hands that are rested across the chest he’s leaning on. Big fucking paws that seem to take up a needless amount of space, long fingers that jiggle up and down as he taps them against one another. Had he made Maggie cum with them? Had he known what it was like to bring someone to such heights, to be the reason for that pleasure? MURR’S eyes are back at Brian’s face in an instant, smile in place to keep his dirty secret at bay. He resigns himself to watching Brian’s mouth move. The way he shapes words has MURR’S mind in some sort of weird tangle that he’s been to before- that sort of longing that builds in his belly, a slow ache that’s only progressed by Brian’s tongue darting out to wet his lips. At this point, MURR’S seeing but not hearing until it becomes clear it’s _pertinent_ that he answers._ _

__‘Yeah. A lot of stuff does.’_ _

__And so MURR goes round and round in his head as the moment comes to a close. God, he wants to know what Brian knows, the longing pressing down on his entire body to be with someone else. All he could think of was Brian. The one he admired and envied at once. And now look at them. Jesus, the world around them could be dissolving and all he’d know in his last moments was Brian’s face. The air between them was hot and tasteless despite them being outside. MURR finds himself licking his own lips, resting a hand on top of Brian’s and tilting his head down the little that it could go. MURR’S tie dangles between them, tickling his own knuckles as he does._ _

___‘All sorts of things…’ MURR says, his comment needless but his prelude anyway. He presses his own lips to Brian’s._  
\---------------------------------------------------------------  
There are many issues with the situation he’s put himself in. If caught, by the clergy of this Catholic and incredibly conservative school, they will be summarily drawn, quartered, and fed to rabid squirrels. And that’s if their parents don’t reach them first. Q is actually falling for this person who for all intents and purposes has the emotional depth of a thimble. To boot, these goddamn roots are digging into his spine like his rent is past due. 

__None of those thoughts occur to him until hours after he and James part._ _

__As he gets a snoutful of cheap soap and expensive cologne there is not a single thing wrong in the world. Only softness and feather light sensations he wants to turn heavy. Quinn pulls James sideways to lay over him and moves his knee up to slip between two slight thighs._ _

__Clumsy would aptly describe the method in which their bodies and mouths intertwine. Not in a bad way. Unpracticed but unbridled in its exuberance. James uses more teeth than he expected, but it gets a positive reaction, popping a semi within seconds. Not that young guys are known for taking eons to get battle ready. Battle would carry the wrong connotation but the correct sense of urgency. It’s only when Q’s lungs are about to pop from lack of oxygen that he halts the kiss._ _

__“Whoa.” His head drops to the ground. “Dude.”_ _

__James is positively radiant. Mere inches away from those lips, rosy and wet. Panting and turned up in a smile, a waiting one. Quinn kisses him again to make sure he’s not hallucinating or having the best dream ever. Yup. His brain isn’t half as talented enough to make up something so good._ _

__Hands traverse new territories. Murr for the moment is satisfied to loop an arm around Brian’s neck, while Q takes the liberty to untuck James’ shirt and let his fingers wander about his waist. They seek tender flesh and he makes a grab for Murr’s ass. Little breathless gasps float around them, and if Quinn wasn’t drunk off the swill James brought he’s definitely intoxicated by the sounds they’re pulling from each other._ _

___They part again, wiggling and stretching to situate themselves comfortably. Brian rests his head back to use Murray’s forearm as a pillow. “Dude.” He can’t say anything to express more. He is dragged into the physical plane of existence they call reality by the rustling of the leaves on the tree’s branches. Life is happening, still. James is on top of him, still. It’s all so fucking incredible and he laughs. So filled with giddy joy he might float off were it not for the solid weight anchoring him. “ _Dude__.”  
\----------------------------------------------------------  
‘Dude.’ MURR snaps right back. Jesus, that word can mean so many things and when it comes from Brian’s lips? It’s usually in the same sort of tone no matter the situation. And boy, what a situation they’re in! He’s still lying on top of Brian, still a bit breathless. One arm trapped under his head. The other he brings up and runs down Brian’s arm, almost a gesture of comfort- although it’s more for himself than Brian. Just to make sure he’s still real, that this is still happening. 

__‘Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying this.’ MURR smirks as he looks down at the other. They’d kissed and kissed so deeply, it didn’t seem to have a finite point until air was no longer a necessity but something imminent. Breath was needed to carry on. Only now they were laying here under the tree, full of new oxygen and yet not resuming. Just sort of marveling at one another._ _

__‘I mean if you’re not, we can stop.’_ _

__At that he lifts his knee just a little, feeling it catch against Brian’s crotch in a gentle way, enough to feel the hardness that’s grown there. He continues looking at the other with the ferocity of a scientist inspecting a trapped species, one that’s about to be pinned for the preservation of it’s beauty. With the hunger to keep._ _

__A moment of awareness pings in MURR’S mind then- maybe he’s taken this the wrong way, perhaps their path was not supposed to progress this way? MURR moves his knee down a little._ _

___‘I suppose we ought to get up though. Eyes everywhere and all that, _dude__ ,’ MURR says through his smile, his cheeks starting to ache now with the effort of keeping it in place.  
\----------------------------------------------------  
He has what has been described as a “dumbass grin you better wipe off your fucking face.” Quinn works very hard to maintain this face whenever possible. It goes without saying he’s enjoying himself, so he doesn’t bother speaking when Murr asks. His brain’s working with all his blood minus what’s going down to circulate in his half chub. 

__Brian deeply appreciates the subdued motion when James moves into him. His dick is about to do back flips. Or was that supposed to be his stomach. Both are true. Both emphatically saying _please for god’s sake continue why are you moving away._ Reason hits him in the back of the head, and he’s feeling a little betrayed at how much sense James can conjure up seconds after making out._ _

__Q wants to keep kissing him. Very much so. Why is it then his body is sitting up and he’s pushing Murr from his lap. Sounds are usually sounds, but now they’re witnesses and accusations. Sister Mary Catherine is the leaves rustling. Father O’Conahan is the candy wrapper being moved by the wind. Pigeons stare with conviction rather than nothingness in glassy eyes._ _

__“Yeah.” He says then repeats very quietly under his breath for the next minute. Legs don’t feel as strong as they should underneath him. He wipes dirt and broken foliage from his school uniform. He adjusts himself in his pants and tries to think of calming things. History reports, cold snow, dictionaries._ _

___Nothing works, because James hasn’t stood up yet. He’s beautiful with messy hair and kiss bitten lips. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re not helping. C-can you make yourself stop blushing?” He rubs at his own cheeks anxiously and smooths over his shirt half a dozen times. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”_  
\------------------------------------------------------  
MURR watches Brian, making no moves to go. And no part of him feels like moving away from this revelation. The tightly set quiff ruffled up into a mess, the top of his shirt pried open revealing the long lead of his neck down into his chest and beyond…. 

__‘Sorry.’ MURR says with a smirk. The other looks delicious in this state- a living breathing imprint of MURR’S dreams. He watches Brian rub at his cheeks attempting to settle his skin down and MURR laughs._ _

__‘’Fraid not, buddy. You can’t do much with that embarrassment.’_ _

__MURR reaches down and rubs the reddened patch of Brian’s skin. He brings his fingers away and shows the tips to Brian._ _

__‘See? Kinda sticks. I- I can’t help getting you so flustered.’_ _

__MURR feels as though he’s holding Brian in the palm of his hand right now- figuratively that is. The other looks busted down by their embrace, looking up wide eyed and waiting. All of MURR’S wonderment at the touch of skin is slowly turning into experience and with it confidence._ _

__‘I’ve kinda always wondered what this would be like. It _is_ what I wanted, Brian.’_ _

__MURR tilts his head, lips brushing Brian’s, feeling his breath as he speaks. His hand lowers at the same time, cupping the hardness growing in the front of Brian’s pants. He runs his fingers along the outlines of Brian’s dick and in that moment this is a whole other territory._ _

__‘What _I_ want.’_ _

__The thing of it all is, something about Quinn had intoxicated him from the off and had become like a lighthouse to him, his light rotating and always coming back to burn MURR’S eyes from the retina out. The other underneath him with the pale Irish skin and the thick black hair and that _fuck you_ attitude had always had something on him and MURR loved that as much as he hated it. Damnit, all MURR wanted to do was make sense of it…make sense of Brian._ _

__‘I’m pretty sure I could sneak you in to my place. My folks can tolerate you as it is.’ MURR grins down at the other, eyes wide and almost ravenous, taking pleasure in his next words._ _

___‘Just think you’re a bit of a bad influence. I’m sure they wouldn’t bad an eyelid to see ya, though. Wanna?’_  
\----------------------------------------------------------  
He’s feeling dumber than usual, and that’s pretty tough. Blushing like a girl or something. James touches his face, and he knows he just got a shade darker. All he needs is a paper bag to put over his head. 

__“I knew that.” He says, defeated and small. “I-I’m not flustered. Guys don’t get flustered.” He can’t bring himself to look at anything but his shoes. There goes his tough guy reputation. No way anybody could breathe easy with a boy so pretty inching closer to their face._ _

__Brian thinks there should be great, sprawling monuments dedicated to how soft Murr’s lips are. A thousand poems taped over street signs, because there’s no need to stop or slow in a life where he’s able to kiss this gorgeous mouth. These things drip out from his ears when Murray’s hands wanders lower._ _

__A blank stare mars his face while he listens. The lungs in his chest aren’t big enough for all the air he needs. Head stuffed up with cotton balls, or more accurately someone’s touching his dick and there’s really nothing else he can pay attention to. The thought presented to him ruminates in his thick skull, and the hamster wheel starts spinning again. Sounds fumble their way off his fat tongue, and he hopes they’re less garbled than his grey matter at the moment._ _

__“That’s a good idea. Yeah.”_ _

__His brain finds its footing and he tracks out the way to James’ place. One bus ride and four blocks from here. In his jeans are four bus tokens and a few dollars for food. Plenty of supplies for the journey ahead of him. His stomach growls loudly, and Quinn’s found the one thing to override his want for sexual gratification._ _

___“Let’s walk past Nonna’s on our way to the bus stop. I could kill a man for a slice.” At the thought of the pizzeria he’s salivating. “Man, I can taste it. I think I want sausage.”_  
\----------------------------------------------------------  
‘Why not? Let the sausage fest continue.‘ 

__MURR spread his hands for approval as though he’s in front of an audience. Truth is, Brian is an audience- his favourite audience at that. The two get up and start to make their way out from under the loose cover of the tree. The sun seems harsh without the dilution of leaves and MURR blinks a coupla times before he can catch the outline of Brian’s face again as clearly as possible. It’s not as clear as he’d like- nothing will compare to that rendering of the other underneath him, cheeks bitten red by lust, the thump of his heart a metronome under MURR’S own body._ _

__'Wait man! You got a little something on your face.'_ _

__MURR takes a hand from his pocket and reaches over. like skimming a surface for dust he runs a fingertip over Brian’s cheek. A shrill of excitement charges him at the ability he has to just touch. Barrier broken for sure. Now the frisson comes from the need for more- he’d never felt more in tune with another person and so it is that it’s Brian Quinn. A guy that can rep for theatre group and yet amass a reputation as a quasi bad boy. A guy who’s fallen between the cracks of high school stereotype and made himself _hard to define_. A fucking barefaced mystery of a guy. MURR has to stop himself laughing before he speaks because there’s a bubble of joy lodged in his throat that he doesn’t want escaping. _ _

__'Oh! It’s just that fluster again. Or call it what ya will.’ MURR doesn’t think it’s necessary to tease Brian too much- after all, he’d dodged a bullet from Lanzella onwards, his path ultimately curling up and up til he’d found himself hot and sweaty in Quinn’s arms. So he just smiles and they just walk, and it feels weird to be a physically separate entity to Brian again, not all tangled up in his kiss and his body and… _him_. _ _

__Nonna’s is some stuff of legends when it comes to New York pizza, and that’s not easy given the abundance of legendary pizza places in the city. All authentic wood fired from the foothills of Naples type stuff- although to MURR it tasted good enough and that was all that mattered. He and Brian opted to wait the few minutes for their food by the counter, in a strange sort of silence as the small humid space shifted around them with the movement of the staff and the other customers._ _

___All as they just seemed to stand still._  
\-----------------------------------------------------  
His head is spinning, lightheaded in a good way. The first second into a long overdue bear hug, nearly knocked off his feet from the force of it while being supported in the arms of someone he loves. James has his hand on Quinn’s cheek, and he wants to melt into the touch, bring his fingers to his lips and move on to kiss every part of him for a few lifetimes or so. That’s not something he can think of for much longer. His pants just started fitting how they should and he doesn’t need another issue while they’re walking away from the secluded gathering of trees. 

__They seem pale for kids who regularly see the sun. Apparitions in this endless sprawl of concrete and strangers. He fills his lungs with air and adjusts the straps of his book bag. Not a bad day, all things considered. Survived detention. Made out with his best friend. He’s gonna get some good grub then go for heavy petting. Speaking of, they step into the pizzeria, and his day is made at the sight of all the fresh pies waiting to be sliced up and sold. They order meager portions in comparison to the megatons Brian feels like he could wolf down in his condition._ _

__Inside Nonna’s the short wait for their food to be ready stretches for eons. Silence between the two boys didn’t really make a difference, because they were caught in the age old activity of people watching. Q’s thoughts wander, as they are oft to do. In the old familiar joint folks of all walks of life bustle around and clamor to order at the register._ _

__He leans back onto the counter, eyes sorting the people into categories. Couple. Friends. Family. Friends. Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. His chest aches all of a sudden and he presses his shoulder to connect with Murr’s. Reassurance that he hadn’t snuck out in the two seconds he wasn’t looking at his handsome mug. He turns his head to make doubly sure, and Murray’s still enjoying the sights and sounds of the restaurant. God, he’s so pretty he makes Quinn forget himself. He smiles so big his cheeks hurt with the stretch._ _

__Someone coughs behind them, throws two plates onto the linoleum surface. Brian goes sheepish. Attempting to determine whether the look he saw was imagined or not. He loves Staten Island, really and truly. It’s all he’s ever known and with hope it’ll be the place he’s gonna croak, but it’s not the most progressive place. They take the slices to go. The same delicious pizza they’ve had a hundred times over, and he can’t get the taste of ashes off his mind._ _

____Possibility__. A word has never seemed so dangerous. It slams its way to the forefront of his mind, ramming into his temples like a caged beast. He’s living one of those life-changing moments he’s seen on tv. A ‘door opening to new happiness, no-take-backsies, irrevocably pinning a colorful flag shaped target on his back’ kind of change.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------  
‘Brian?’ MURR snaps his fingers in front of Brian’s face, once, twice. His preface of ‘look alive, Bri!’ had gone unanswered and it was only at the snap of his fingers that he’d caught the other’s attention. 

__Somewhere within the wait he’d lost him. Seen Brian’s attention fluttering around, easily caught by their surroundings. MURR had taken the opportunity greedily; stared at the other, unencumbered, for as long as the diversion allowed. Imagined what he looked like stripped of those clothes. If he was defined, if his body was as pale as his face. Took in the handsome cut of his face, so usually swathed in the attention of others. It was like catching a rare species in it’s natural state; his jittery attention span stunk of nerves, of someone lost, darting around for the junction home._ _

__'Food’s up.’_ _

__MURR’S already picked up his piece by the tine he gets a vacant acknowledgement from Brian, and he hands enough dollars to cover the both of them over to the cashier, walking out first._ _

__Now, there’s purpose. No more stops to fulfil needs that could be waited for. They’re down to the bare bones of their journey, destination distinct as the wait the coupla minutes for the bus. MURR eats quickly. Wipes the grease from his fingers onto a napkin. Dabs the corners of his mouth after. Breathmints. He makes a mental note to cram a few into his mouth before he kisses Brian again. MURR wants to leave no other taste, no other impression than his. Not the cheesy starch of second hand pizza. The bus ride is slow movong and creaky as the unwieldy vehicle forces it’s way through the crowded roads. Yet suddenly, they’re there. They’ve arrived. MURR looks at Brian, unable to help the smile beginning to capture his mouth._ _

__'I’m sure we can sidestep the folks. Oughta say hello though, at least.’ MURR looks at Brian and smirks. No, there’s nothing less he wants than another distraction, plundering their opportunities further._ _

___'Then we can head up to my room.’ A raise of the eyebrows without smile this time because je-sus, how did they get here so fast? It was a nothing ask, a normality before now. And now they’d made it so much more._  
\-----------------------------------------------------  
The human mind is quite remarkable. A vast network of neurons controlling thoughts, emotions, movements, body functions. Q’s zoned out of the galaxy while he chews through his food robotically. He drops the empty plate in the trash and wipes his mouth on his sleeve. The bus stop is empty save for graffiti and litter. He breathes in the stench of car fumes and aged debris. 

__Beside him Murr’s presence is refocused in fine clarity. He didn’t think he was horny, but James gave sound reasoning in the form of physical attention. What’s more, his friend tasted nice. Minty and cold at the touch. Quinn left grease marks over his clothes. He whines, air escaping his lungs when he’s pushed against the plastic wall of the bus shelter. His friend is very, very convincing._ _

__For better or worse the sound of the bus a block away has them sitting on the bench, staring forward. It’s a tolerable ride at the best of times, but fate’s especially unkind as Q counts down the stops with a his backpack pressed over a problem area in his lap, idly wondering how James can be so composed sat beside him. Thankfully, everything’s sorted itself out by the time they’re ready to step off the bus._ _

__A short walk and they’re in front of the Murray residence. _Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Okay._ Brian steels himself, carefully listening to everything being spoken. He’s met his friend’s parents before. They’re nice people. He and Murr walk through the door and take a few steps until they’re in the den._ _

__“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Murray. It’s good to see you.” Quinn smiles, maybe a little bigger than he should, hoping to put off the impression of friendly._ _

__“Oh Brian, so polite! Both of you come here. James, I haven’t seen you all day, and now you come home hours late, looking like you’ve been rolling around on the ground.” She gives a light peck to each side of her son’s face. “Dear, you’ve got stains all over your new shirt. Are those fingerprints?”_ _

___Quinn cut in, laughing nervously. “I’m so sorry. Mrs. Murray, you can put the blame on me. I kept him late after school. We were practicing new lines for a play in the courtyard, and during an argument we started roughhousing.” He doesn’t know quite where the lie came from, but it sounded half decent. James must be rubbing off on him. He looks to his friend for confirmation. “Right, bud?”  
\---------------------------------------------------------  
MURR watches Brian with the admiration that usually infests him when he’s near the other. If he could wipe his knowledge, not know that every word out of Brian’s mouth was a lie, he would think his friend charming and gallant. MURR nods his confirmation, his approval, and watches his mother’s smile sweetens under the influence of the nectar of Brian’s words. She fusses around him, sitting him down at the table with the promise of some iced tea and of arranging another plate for dinner as ‘ _of course, there’s plenty!__ ’ 

__‘And you, sweetie. Good day?’ MURR feels the kiss on his head and immediately feels his cheeks redden. His mother’s affection reduces him to the physical signs of embarrassment, because what they’re about to- what he wants to do with Brian is so much more mature. It’s the side of himself he wants to show._ _

__‘Mo- _om_ ,’ he chides as she patters away, making noises about what’s for dinner. As soon as they’re alone, MURR damn near pounces. _ _

__'You coulda given me the heads up about this, asshole!’ He gestures to his shirt, covered in the remnant of Brian’s touch. He could track the progression of Brian’s hands up his body and there in that moment is what catches his feelings alight again. MURR lets out a breath, easing his hand up Brian’s leg as he leans in. Now he wants the kiss- he’s more than good and ready. All of that lust he’d managed to master during the transition was bolting out of him now. Fingers sunk into the firm flesh of Brian’s thighs as he balanced his weight on the other._ _

__‘We’re going upstairs to finish reciting lines for this wonderful play of yours. Right? Repeat that to my mother. She won’t question you about it.’ MURR’S voice is even, steady as he looks at the other. Fuck it. He dips his head, brushing his lips across Brian’s, some sort of fleeting kiss but monumental promise._ _

__‘Right?’_ _

__He pulls his body away just in time as his mother sweeps back in. She sets down drinks and it’s then that she looks at her son curiously. Inhales sharply, catching a scent that hardens her face._ _

__'James! Is that alcohol I can smell?’_ _

___MURR feels his bravado wither as he looks helplessly at Brian.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
What a picturesque family moment. Q snickers under his breath as he watches Murr become all but mortified at his mother’s kindness. _Oh he’s cute__. When James’ mom leaves the room he outright laughs, further entertained by his friend’s outburst. 

__“Sorry, guy. I barely realized they were there.” His smile stops immediately when Murray’s hand moves on his leg. “ _Dude_.” Quinn pins a hard look on his friend, semi-disapproving of his actions. He hears what’s certainly a terrible plan. “I can’t just do that. Keep it in your pants for a minute.”_ _

__What’s the deal with people yammering on only about feminine whiles when guys can be so persuasive. If only Murr wasn’t Murr. If they were all non-corporeal forms who flew through the universe learning about life or some shit._ _

__Brian doesn’t need these garbage hormones making his skin buzz, or that one part of his brain so desperately telling him how much none of this is stupid and in fact it’s the only thing he will ever want or need in life. James is attractive, soft, smells nice, and speaks well. All the precursors to the quintessential bombshell. Later when Q looks back on the moment, it’s more like the large catastrophic disaster kind._ _

__“Uh, y-yeah. Sure.”_ _

__In a flash Murray’s sealed everything up into a neat package. Mr. Innocent in the flesh. Reset. Quinn on the other hand uses a napkin to wipe sweat off his palms. He coughs rigorously and repeats the excuse he was given in his head._ _

__Murr’s mom walks back in with full glasses and sets them on the table. “So, I’m guessing you boys must be hungry. Dinner is coming along and should be ready in a bit.”_ _

__“A-actually, Mrs. M, we’ve still got more rehearsing to do. Plus schoolwork. James and I were going to go up in his room.” He stands up from the table. “That’s if it’s okay with you, and there’s nothing we can do to help you.”_ _

__“Oh right. That sounds like a fine idea. I’ll call when everything’s done cooking.” She waves them off._ _

___“Thank you, Mrs. Murray.” Brian grabs his friend’s hand._  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The heat on MURR’S face starts to cool now that the worst is done with. Brian seems adept at the excuses, any nerves vanished, and as his mother gives them permission, letting them go, he grins at the other. 

__‘Mrs. M.’ he teases. His hand is captured by the other’s, that’s all that matters. MURR gives Brian a hopeful sort of grin and walking slowly so that their joined hands are concealed between their bodies as they pass the kitchen and his mother, they begin their ascent up the stairs._ _

__MURR can recall every detail of that climb. The normality of walking up the staircase became a slow dance, feet sinking into the soft carpet, fingers pressing against those of the other hand for safety, security. He remembers the top stair looming the whole time. The corner of his bedroom door revealing itself as they got closer._ _

__Past the laundry bin, the family portrait that hung on the wall outside his door. Smelt like furniture polish and vanilla. His bedroom. The low bed pushed against the back wall. Stacks of tapes on top of the hi fi. Posters covering the navy walls._ _

__Brian’s in the room too, and MURR reaches past him, softly clicking the door shut. Oh jeez, this is where the words are supposed to happen. Or maybe not? Hands grabbing t shirts, twisting them off over the other’s body. Hot kisses that have a path of their own, that naturally lead to more._ _

___Instead he stands in front of Brian and thrusts his hands into his pocket, body sort of folding in on itself as he hunches over into his self. All he can do is stare at the other._  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
It was nice holding hands, Q thinks. They successfully escaped and tread up the stairs. He gets to look at all the knick-knacks lining the walls and got an eyeful of the whole Murray pride. Giant blown up family portraits never seemed completely normal to him, but it wasn’t his house. Murr opens the door for them, and he steps inside after him. 

__Well this is weird._ _

__They’re there. In the place they wanted to be. Closed off in a secluded location and with however many minutes on the oven timer. Now’s the clothes ripping frenzied action point of their plot line. He exhales, letting his cheeks puff out with the exertion._ _

__“Uh.” He opens his mouth to say something then closes it at the fact that he’s got nothing. There’s a sudden awareness of everything in the room, and it’s very interesting to look at the poster of some blue car Murr has tacked on a cork board._ _

__“I think we put too much pressure on the moment.” He talks to the wall. “We may have lost a lot of momentum some time between the bus station and here.” Q bends down and rifles through his bag. “I really do have some studying I could do.” He tiredly says without any enthusiasm. “But I think this would be easier if we tried something simple to relax.”_ _

___There in the corner is the thing he’s been wanting since detention. Quinn takes the few paces to the bed. Without much thought sheds some layers, taking off his pants and his uniform shirt. Down to the essentials, briefs and an undershirt, perfect sleepwear. He lays down and stretches out, yawning slightly. “I find a cat nap leaves me very refreshed.”_  
\----------------------------------------------------------  
‘Sure, man. Lighten up. We can do that.’ MURR sorta shakes himself out, letting his limbs fall loose. Fuck, Brian’s probably right. He watches Brian put them in order- suggest a nap, let his fingers reach for the fastenings of his uniform. 

__Watching Brian undress in such a casual way is nothing unusual for MURR. Locker room shit pervades their high school, and so he’s seen the other half naked countless times. But then he stands there in his underpants and a t shirt, stretching up and out, and climbs into the bed. It’s surreal to not see him quickly reaching for the next item of clothing to cover himself up._ _

__‘Uh-uh…all right.’ In a bit of a daze he walks over and kicks off his shoes. Nothing else. He takes the space next to Brian, carefully arranging his body so that they’re side by side. He can feel the warmth, the heat and pulse of Brian next door and MURR shuts his eyes, swallows thickly._ _

___Testingly he reaches over and lets his arm fall across Brian’s belly. He turns his face so that they’re facing one another._  
\-----------------------------------------------------------  
From the bed he gets an odd horizontal angle of Murray’s stiff movements. He blinks heavily and appreciates the heat Murr provides in lieu of the covers. Before he relaxes his nose crinkles. 

__“Man, didn’t your ma teach you to not sleep in your clothes?” Q raises his brow. He’d poke fun a bit more, but he is actually a bit sleepy and wouldn’t mind a nap. He sits up and pulls James by the shoulders to do the same. “You smell like pizza grease.”_ _

__He carefully unbuttons the shirt, not looking at anything but his own hands working. “You’re really in la la land. I haven’t seen you this spaced out since you first saw girl cheerleaders at the football game.” It’s slow going, but eventually he gets to the bottom._ _

___“So, do you wanna be big spoon or little spoon?” He asks half jokingly, sort of unnerved by his friend’s still silence. It’s a rarity he’d rather not become overly familiar with. He moves James’ arms where they need to go in order to remove the shirt, sort of a life sized doll. Throws it into an open clothes hamper. “Okay. That’s better.”_  
\------------------------------------------------------------  
All his bluster and expectation about what would happen once they got upstairs has come back to haunt him and he’s left to be manipulated like a mannequin, not sure what move to make next. 

__He sees Brian undoing his shirt, fingers moving slowly and swears he can feel his heart in his throat. Glad the other is taking control, though. Pumped up on the thought that they’d get up here and continue where they’d left off….it was all he’d had. Was this how it should be, then? Gentle and slow, not really seeking that specific outcome?_ _

__‘Man, you could see their underpants, those skirts were so short.’ MURR looks up at Brian when he asks the next question._ _

__‘I’m all yours, Bri,’ he says jokingly, lying back down and hefting over, ready to be circled by the other.  
“Suits you.” Q lets gravity do all the work and falls onto the mattress, making it creak. He tucks an arm over James’ middle and pulls him tight to his body. Every part of him pressing into Murr. “I could never say no to such a good deal.” He chuckles before letting go. Arm loosely laid over his friend’s side._ _

__“I always figured you’d be the take charge kind of person.” From where he is, Q watches the hairs on the back of Murr’s neck rise in reaction to his breath. He kisses the soft skin there. “You’re really cute.”_ _

__His eyes drift shut and he sort of recognizes something’s being spoken to him. Mostly he feels the rumble of vibrations through James’ body._ _

__Lightning runs through his muscles, and he’s stunned still when he hears the door open._ _

___“Boys, dinner is-” Murr’s parent stopped mid-sentence._  
\----------------------------------------------------  
He watches Q undress him with a stutter in his chest. All that intent and desperation to reach his target- that target- seems to have been expelled from him in the calming hands of the other. 

__I am in control, I am fucking in control, his head screams all as he let’s himself be cuddled up to. It follows that the lips at the back of his neck has his eyes fluttering shut, breath hitching in his throat._ _

__Of course, after that, everything loses it’s colour. His mother comes in and shatters the moment. He says sorry more than once all as she looks at him from across the kitchen table. She’s not accused him of doing anything wrong- no one has- but he says it anyway, wanting to come out of this as easily as possible._ _

___Of course, it’s his father who says it. ‘That kid isn’t welcome in this house anymore. No one’s allowed in your bed, you KNOW this, James.’ He sounds more disappointed than anything. MURR hangs his head at this particular reproach, more because he’s too pissed to look the older man in the eye. Oh, to be a disappointment- it damn hurts.._  
\--------------------------------------------------------  
Of the possible ways to come out to your parents this is not on his list. It’s probably one of the last bullet points, not worth mentioning in any plan. A second after locking up he remembers his motor skills, responding to Murr wriggling to escape his grasp. They’re up and dressing quickly. Before Brian has a chance to get his shoes or shirt on Mr. Murray is pushing him out the door. 

__He finishes getting dressed and walks all the way home to give himself time to think. Also increasing the time he spends away from his parents, because he knows either Mr. or Mrs. Murray is calling home this second to share the recent events. The sun bakes him to a fine well done by the time he’s at his front steps. Silently, he unlocks and sneaks in the door, but before he can hide out in his room his mom has a hand around his shirt collar._ _

__Yelling, punishment, disappointment you know the mainstays of every healthy family. These are the things he fully expected. Instead he finds his short, strictly conservative Catholic mother hugging him so tight his lungs might explode. There’s cheek squeezing and cheek kissing and tears on those cheeks. Even a pat on the back from his pop. Generally a lot of heartfelt shit he’d rather not get into._ _

__After he’s given time to clean up and be presentable he sits down with his parents in the living room to talk._ _

__“They said what?” His dad questioned him._ _

__Brian’s head sank into the couch cushion. “I’m not allowed to go to his house anymore.”_ _

__He sighed. “Well, that’s horseshit.”_ _

__“Frank, watch your mouth.” Quinn’s mom said quickly._ _

__“Susan, he’s old enough to know more curse words than I do.”_ _

__His mother shrugged at this response. “It doesn’t hurt to set a good example.”_ _

__Q pulled a pillow over his face, hoping to sink down and never stop until he’s buried in the ground. “It’s fine ma.”_ _

__“Honey, are you sure you’re okay? This is a big step you’re making. I want you to know we love you, right Frank?” She’s patting Q and waving her arm at her husband for a response._ _

__He sounds exasperated. “I don’t care who you like, as long as you’re happy. I’m kind of thankful. Between you and your brother’s it’s good to have someone who’s half as likely to knock a girl up.”_ _

__“ _Pop_.” Quinn extends the single word in a whine through the pillow._ _

__“What? I’m being supportive. What more do you want? Your mother and I love you. Now, pack up and go to your room. I’ve had enough of you moping on the sofa. In ten minutes the Yankees are playing.”_ _

___Brian’s mother kisses him on the head and he hauls himself up into a seated position. He moves to his bedroom and wonders what James is doing.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------  
There’s a strained silence that hangs over the household all evening. It even passes over the dinnertable, as bowls of veg and potatoes are passed between him and his siblings without so much as a word. As MURR sullenly stabs a potato onto his fork and nibbles at it’s edges, all he could wonder is how Brian is doing. He’d heard his own mom on the phone to the other’s parents- _They were in bed together and I don’t care that no one can get knocked up, that’s not the issue, Mrs Quinn__ \- and knew that the shit had begun. Word was out between their families and how long before everyone at school knew? 

__‘James?’_ _

__‘Yeah, dad?’ His hammering heart thunked only harder as he looked up at his father._ _

__‘Pass me the salt, wouldja?’_ _

__And so dinner ended and he went up to bed. Washed, brushed teeth. Changed. Usual routine. Nothin’ to see here. Until he walked into his room. The bed was still unmade from earlier- somewhere in there was Brian’s shape, his sweat and maybe even a hair…_ _

__He was patient. Didn’t force his plan for once. And when the house fell silent he slipped out of the hall window and made his way to Brian’s, all the while focusing on his feet as he walked, so as not to attract too much attention. The thing was, he had to see him…had to see if what they’d experienced was going to amount to anything. When he’d dropped Brian in the shit with Lanzella he’d been hoping for his attention. Good or bad. And now he had it….he wasn’t going to give it up easily. That curiosity, the need for experience had only been upped by being so intimate with the other, by stripping away everything else and leaving them as just them._ _

___Brian’s house. The back window was his. A light on. Blinds scrunched up. An Elvis poster visible, tacked onto the wall. Got it. Picking up a handful of gravel, MURR pulled back his arm and let it fly. It showered the glass, made a tinkering sound that MURR crouched down again. Hidden just in case._  
\--------------------------------------------------------  
The capital of Sweden is Stockholm. He knew this. As soon as he flipped the card and read the answer he knew it, at least. “Goddamnit.” He mumbles to himself. The clock shows he’s been hitting himself over the head with geography shit for half an hour, so ten minutes more then he’s done. 

__A small collection of something hits his window and he turns his head. Carefully, he peeks through. He bites his lip at the sight of his friend, uncertain in whether he should let him in. Might as well. The glass slides up easily and he does a stage whisper. “Stop crouching by the bushes like a weirdo. Wait by the back door. I’ll come get you.”_ _

__He watches his path to avoid creaky areas and traverses down the stairs. The kitchen is lit by a single bulb above the oven. Dim but still bright enough for him to see Murray’s face in the window of the door. His heart flutters. After all this time he was certain Murr would have been locked up tight at his house. He slips out the door and walks off the paved steps to the grass._ _

__His arms open wide and there’s a tidal wave of relief when James nestles himself in his chest. “Dude. What the fuck are you doing here?” He squeezes tight and lets some anxiety float off in the form of quiet laughter. With the new vantage point he gets closer to the withdrawn nature that does not meld with Murr’s usual personality._ _

__“Shit. Are you okay? I’m so sorry, man.” He presses his mouth to James’ temple. “I shouldn’t have gotten you in bed. It was stupid. With your family still walking around a floor below us I should have known better.” He doesn’t let sadness sink in. Brian lifts Murray up and swings him around until he’s dizzy. “But I’m so happy you’re here. Tomorrow my folks are gonna talk to yours and hopefully, this will all work out. If not I wouldn’t mind you staying in my bed until we’re old enough to fly the coop.”_ _

___Maybe his excitement came too early. He didn’t realize he’d been holding Murr the whole time, and he drops him the the ground. Lets him say his piece._  
\--------------------------------------------------------  
Brian’s head rises our of the window, looking oddly detached. MURR catches his instructions and finds his way around. And then there he is. Looking none the worse for everything that’s happened. His easy smile in place. He stands there and MURR rushes for him. Jesus, the security of Brian’s arms around him knocks him weak, has him snuggling into the other. No more was Quinn a trophy to be shelved and admired, pondered over for it’s significance. He was all MURR wanted and needed at the moment. 

__‘It’s OK, man. And to think, I wanted to do so much more…’_ _

__MURR finds his earlier eagerness embarrassing almost, but he laughs it off. He’s lifted then as Brian talks. Spun around and around until the world is blurry and his only anchor is Brian._ _

___‘I-I mean, ya think it’ll work put that way?’ It’s hardly the considered plan he’s used to running on but then again, this is new territory. He’ll have to let Brian guide him and trust in him. The thought makes him feel a little nauseous- could be the anticipation of their reunion cooling in him but he’s sure it’s not. But then he looks up, and MURR’S heart threatens to burst at the sight of the other so close. He leans up and kisses Brian’s mouth with all the force of his feeling. Not caring about technique, about where his hands are placed, how much tongue he’s using. He just kisses him, arms sliding around Brian’s hips until he’s able to spread his fingers over Brian’s back and pull him in, keeping him exactly where he wants him.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------  
 _Holy shit where did this come from__. Quinn wonders. 

__He could have sworn he had 30 lbs on this kid, but from the way Murr’s holding him tight it doesn’t make any difference. He can’t help but follow his only option. Yield. He melts easily into the kiss and hopes to give as good as he gets. James is scorching, radiating heat through their chests smashed together and his arms wrapped around Q’s back. He has to stop to catch his breath. As his lungs take in the night air he’s watching Murray with wonderment._ _

__“Dude, wow. Like, really, wow.”_ _

__Brian pulls away from him, the spell of strength evaporating from his friend. He paces to and fro. None of this was in his game plan for the night. The expected itinerary was study for an hour and go to sleep, but now his evening is wrecked as shit._ _

___“Where do you wanna go?” He looks to his house then back at Murr. “I don’t know if we can do this. Your ma would kill me in my sleep if she found out you were here.” He doesn’t understand his own hesitancy, but nerves begin to chomp their way through his spine. Before he thinks otherwise Brian takes his hand and pulls him towards the door. “Did you want to-” He interrupts himself, doubt clouding his thoughts. They stop. “I don’t know why you came here, really.” He drops James’ hand. Oxygen seems sparse and he’s paralyzed in his spot, concern wrinkling his face._  
\-----------------------------------------------------  
MURR’S primary fantasy as he’d made his way there had been this kiss. It would be hot and tender and would lead to something more. Would satisfy the craving he had for this guy. 

__‘You know what, I was just thinking with my downstairs brain.’_ _

__Brian’s hesitancy was not part of the plot. And jeez, this is why you always stick to the plan. People are variable. No, their reactions are variables and that was where it came undone._ _

__‘As always. Don’t like the idea of being mincemeat.’_ _

__All the romantic high has been squashed out of him. Brian doesn’t look as welcoming now. He’s scared to touch and so he settles for patting him on the arm._ _

__'I don’t know why I came either if I’m truthful. Dumb idea. Waste of time.’ The lie tastes so wrong in his mouth but he grins around it, hoping it stings a little. Raises an eyebrow._ _

__'Let ya get your beauty sleep, bud.’_ _

__Going home his head is hung low again. Walk is slow, mournful. He half expects to get roughed up. Wants to, in a weird way. It’s well past the witching hour and he’s put himself in this idiot position. Maybe he deserves it. Of course Brian is having second thoughts. It was bound to end this way. You eager fucker! Too much, too much, MURR. He’s home without incident. Disturbs no one as he floats through the house and lies down. See? Nothing’s happened. I haven’t moved. That did not happen. In the morning, he forces the kettle against his forehead until it’s red and scorching. Then he goes to the bathroom and stuffs his fingers down his throat until a river of bitter acid bile courses over. God, his eyes sting._ _

___'Stay home, hon. Might feel better tomorrow,’ his mother says, the back of her hand dabbing at his red forehead. His heart calms it’s pace as he nods mournfully. Not today. Don’t need to face him today.  
\--------------------------------------------------------  
He’s statue still for the whole routine, screaming on the inside. _God, I’m so sorry. Please, I love you, but I’m so fucking scared. Make this easy, again__. James has a hand on him, and it seems okay for a moment. Then he sees his death. The smile. The dull one that reminds him of sharks more than sunshine. He urges his chicken shit body to do something, not let this miracle walk off the property. 

__“James.”_ _

__Too quiet in his dry throat. It’s barely a rasp, and most certainly nothing to the boy halfway across the street. He can’t go after him. Can’t say anything above his library voice. This delicate bridge they’ve built will not stand for that kind of melodrama, though he wants to scream his name a hundred times until the whole neighborhood hears._ _

__He shuffles off, dead on his feet until his head hits the pillow. The night is spent going over the scenario and all the different ways he could have not fucked it up. There’s still hope for tomorrow. A fresh day to convince Murr to not hate his guts. Q gets up early, bright eyed and bushy tailed. Right after breakfast he’s bounding out the door to the convenience store along the way to the bus station. He loads up on sweets he’s caught Murray eating. Reparations, offerings, bribes. Call them what you may, but it’s all Quinn’s got._ _

__Ten minutes early to homeroom and he’s about to vibrate out of his seat. People walk in, but none of them have the right face. He counts to ten a few times, tries some of those flashcards in his backpack. _Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Okay._ It’s not uncommon for James to come in late. Brian rushes to the other kid’s locker and opens it. (Thankful, suddenly, for all the time he spent standing over him while he gathered his books.) When Murr arrives and grabs his stuff he’ll find the candy. Maybe Q can pull off a hero’s welcome._ _

__The bottom of his stomach falls out as the class periods tick by. No Murray. No nothing. He clenches his hands in unending cycles, little crescents buried in his palms. “Please. Please. Please. Please.” He doesn’t know why he’s whispering under his breath. James isn’t going to show up. The other shoe has dropped, and it’s almost a relief to not have to think about how he’s going to ruin what they have. That check’s sign, sealed, and delivered._ _

___He waits in the cold purgatory of detention. Wiping tears before they have a chance to fall._  
\----------------------------------------------------------  
It’s the quietest day he’d had in a long time. Once his mom and dad have gone to work, it’s just him and the television. He watches a couple of soap opera. Naps for a bit. Blanket over his knees, hands tucked between his thighs because they’re freezing. Maybe he really is ill. 

__Eventually he can’t avoid the discomfort in his gut. His promise to himself not to think of Brian starts to become rickety as he looks at his watch. Third period. Seat in the corner. Brian over the way._ _

__Fuck._ _

__He puts his hands over his face and let’s out a long sigh. What happened to the guy who was happy to drop Brian effing Quinn in shit with Lanzella, only to rescue something from the wreckage? What’s happened to him? When did these feelings start getting in the fucking way?_ _

__He can make it to the school in half an hour or so. Getting up, he goes to the bathroom and washes, brushes up. Gets into his uniform._ _

__This was just a blip._ _

___He’s going to do what he does best._ _ _

______Walk the fuck in to that school and catch Quinn after detention and act like nothing. Ever. Happened.  
\----------------------------------------  
Brian has accomplished to fail in such a multitude of unique ways he thinks it might be a goddamn record for him. _ _

____He woke up anxious an hour early with enough manic energy for him to imagine what it’s like to snort coke, which seems odd considering his brain kept him up til’ 3:00am rehashing his mistakes. James walked off his lawn in silence while Q stood idly by. Murr’s not going to talk to him ever again, let alone take part in any of the fun activities he’s just recently learned he’s wanted so badly. The switch from energized to zombie flipped halfway through detention, and he’s never found laying face down in a ditch to be a more comforting thought._ _ _ _

____The buzzing of the fluorescent lights acts as a lullaby and a fairly effective method of torture. Unceasing, ever-present onslaught of dull noise. He imagines looting someone’s locker and bringing a baseball bat to smash each light. Adrenaline pumps through his veins while he daydreams, knuckles white with the force he’s clenching them._ _ _ _

____Something’s wrong with him. Or maybe he’s remembering himself. This sleepless state might be his core. Vicious and rageful. He and Murray were always different beasts, not able to mix._ _ _ _

____Before he’s reached the peak of his temper the hour’s up. He bursts out the door.  
\---------------------------------------------------------He gets a couple of funny looks walking towards school in his fresh smart uniform just as it’s kicking out time, but MURR just smiles. Beneath that smile, MURR trembles over a fault line inside that threatens to split, sending out shock after shock of nerves and bad feeling. It’s the only way he can think to overcome such weakness that he’s shown- power through, bluster on. His own exclusion has shown Brian too much of himself and it still hurts that the other questioned his being there. Oh yeah, he holds onto things like this tightly because they remind him not to get too close, too comfortable. Other people are fun to be around but you just can’t account for what they’re going to do. Especially when you’re swept up in lovelorn fucking fantasies about the school big boy._ _ _ _

____Sure enough, as he reaches school most kids are pouring out. He sees Joe and Sal and puts his hand up and gets no response._ _ _ _

____Then comes the waiting. Detention’s usually an hour’s worth of pain, and so MURR waits it out walking the empty halls. Settling briefly in the library to read his Spanish notes ready for a test that’s penciled in for ‘ _this week_ ’._ _ _ _

____Time’s up. What he’s read is already gone and he’s shoving stuff into his bag and hurrying down towards the hall. MURR slows his pace when he sees Brian come flying out of the door, sending it slamming into the wall as he opens it with enthusiasm. His chest burns at the sight of the other but he keeps walking anyway, at a nice steady pace._ _ _ _

____‘That bad was it, man?’_ _ _ _

____MURR puts his hand on Brian’s back. Makes sure his touch is firm, not wavering at all. He looks the other right in the eye, a sort of half smile on his lips. It’s hard to catch a breath while he is, his body swimming with the sensation of being beside Brian, being kissed by him under the tree….his chest feels loaded down and heavy._ _ _ _

____‘Catch ya later.’_ _ _ _

______And so he starts to walk past Brian and a small part of him asks what the fuck he’s doing- all that for, well _that_ \- but it’s overridden by the satisfaction at that small piece of restoration he feels inside as he goes. Yeah it hurts, it hurts like hell but he feels a little stronger for it.  
\--------------------------------------------------------  
The air is no fresher out of the class than inside, but it warms him to be out in the open. James walks past him and their interaction goes too quickly. Another part of this terrible dream. _No, wait this is real_. The ghost of touch lingers at the small of his back, and Brian shakes his head to extract this sleepiness. _ _

____**“JAMES.” He roars.** _ _ _ _

____The name reverberates around the hallways, echoing slightly. His anger mostly dissipated by the loud bellowing to be replaced by shock at his own volume. He slaps a hand over his mouth. “Shit. That was louder than I meant.” The important part is it worked, and he’s pulling the stunned kid in front of him towards the empty theatre room before someone goes looking for him. They silently run for a minute until they make it to sanctuary. A dusty, poorly decorated sanctuary._ _ _ _

____“James.” His lungs empty with the sound of relief. Quinn hugs him close, pressing him into the wall beside the closed door. “I know I saw you last night, but I missed you, man. What happened? Did you play hooky all day?”_ _ _ _

____He’s stepped back to hold him at shoulder length. “I guess it doesn’t matter. I’m really happy to see you dude. Last night I couldn’t sleep after you walked home. This shit happening is getting to me. When you didn’t show up I thought you hated my guts or changed schools.” Q wanders back, drifting across the room in heavy steps before he collapses on the worn couch._ _ _ _

____He’s not closing his eyes. He’s resting them. The maelstrom threatening to overthrow his greater reasoning has quietened. In fact everything’s gotten a bit dull and soft around the edges. Murr gave his absolution. The world seems right while it drifts further away from him._ _ _ _

____James looked so radiant when he showed up. Pristine and tidy. What an angel. Albeit an angel who lies and swindles at every instance where he could benefit himself, but whatever. Quinn’s picturing his cherubic face with a halo on top. Holding him tight on one of those nice looking clouds. Better than the plushest pillows he’s ever touched. Dulcet tones of a harp play off in the distance. _Wait, no this isn’t real.__ _ _ _

______He wakes up and smiles, seeing his friend in the room. “Sorry. I’m tired and sort of loopy.” Q murmurs quietly before giggling to himself.  
\--------------------------------------------------------  
Brian damn well startles him and his eyes widen a little at the vehemence of the voice calling him. But there’s his name and it’s said with such _passion_ …He’s unable to resist when he’s dragged into the theatre room. Somewhere they’ve spent hours together and yet it seems so unfamiliar in light of the speed with which their moving._ _

____‘Yeah. All day.’ MURR manages a smirk too, to brighten his face. Let him think I’ve had fun. Good. That’s good._ _ _ _

____‘Took the ferry into the city and…ah, it’s not important.’_ _ _ _

____I’m sorry I left I’m sorry I didn’t come back to you…apologies reel through his head but no way are they going anywhere near his tongue. Instead he cocks his head and watches Brian go over to the couch and sink into it._ _ _ _

____‘No way, man. I just wasn’t feeling school.’_ _ _ _

____Sometimes he wishes he could let himself reel off how he feels, how he’d felt broken inside that morning. The drastic measures he’d resorted too. Instead he sits beside Brian and watches him talk. His eyes closed, lashes resting on his cheeks. Some serene beauty. MURR’S heart goes a little faster. Asshole, why do you do this to me?_ _ _ _

____‘I feel like yesterday was all a bit of a dream. Y’know? Did we really make out?’ MURR shrugs and let’s his head fall back. The fact that his absence caused Brian to fall apart does something for him. He matters. Jesus, it all matters._ _ _ _

____‘Did your parents go batshit crazy? I got _the lecture_. No one in your bed, James…’ MURR rolls his eyes, mimicking his father’s voice as he does. He shifts over, resting his head a fraction on Brian’s shoulder. There. There he feels safe and comfortable._ _ _ _

____‘I sorta dashed off. I know. I think I got caught up in…it.’ He looks across and chuckles. Moves his hand up and let’s it rest lightly on Brian’s thigh as he takes a coupla deep breaths._ _ _ _

______The plan had been to act aloof. Give him hell. Make him feel as small as MURR had. And yet here he was, basically getting off on the merest of touches. _Fuck it, James_. Getting so caught up in the other was _not_ part of the plan.  
\------------------------------------------------------------  
“Dude that sounds so much better than my day. Mrs. Reynolds pounded my ass on the history test. I think maybe half my answers were possibly right.” He covers his eyes with the crook of his arm. Murr gives off a pleasant warmth when he sits beside him._ _

____“This is as real as real comes.” The speckled white ceiling isn’t nearly as appealing as the leaf covered branches of the trees in the courtyard, but it is much comfier here. Part of him want to compliment James on how nice he smells, but it seems weird. The cologne mixes with the scent of a couple dozen other teenagers who’ve sat or laid on the flower patterned sofa._ _ _ _

____“My folks were so embarrassing. My Ma was practically holding me under a magnifying glass and my Dad was going on about me not getting girls pregnant. Ugh.” He shivers and frowns. “I’m never going to talk to them about this kind of shit, again. Worse than when they found me drunk.” He turns over._ _ _ _

____“I guess it could’ve ended worse. They might try talking your parents into being a little more accepting or whatever. I don’t know.” He lifts his head to run his fingers through his hair then rests back. “This thing is kind of a mess. I probably would have reacted the same if I were in your shoes.”_ _ _ _

_____Whoa_. Brian froze at the touch. With fascination he tracked the pink rising up his friend’s complexion. A little laugh is suppressed. _He’s mortal_. Q shifts to allow his fingers to brush the back of James’ neck, soft skin shielded behind the collar of his shirt. A little thrill at the thought of mapping out new areas on his body._ _ _ _

____“I was ten kinds of out of my mind last night for doing nothing as you walked away.” The springs of the couch squeak under him as he clumsily wiggles forward. Close as possible, not going to make the same mistake twice. “I want to let you know how much I like you, and I was really too frazzled last night by the aftermath of what happened to function properly.”_ _ _ _

____“We’re young, dumb, and full of come. What happened last night was- I don’t know why I chose that exact moment to start thinking through actions, but it was god awful self-sabotage. All I want is you and maybe the new issue of Batman coming out next month.”_ _ _ _

______The air’s lighter now with everything out in the open. He got through most of the speech he spent all morning planning. Unaware of the satisfied smirk laid across his face at the sound of the words finally floating around outside of his own head.  
\------------------------------------------------------------  
‘I only walked because I thought we were done.’_ _

____MURR knows it sounds lame, it doesn’t come off with confidence, but it’s all he had right now. As Brian pleads his case he feels his own brow furrowing with the deep concentration required to hang on tight. Brian twists his way through the subject until there’s nothing left. Silence._ _ _ _

____‘It’s simple. There’s repercussions to our behaviour- breaking rules about having possible lovers in our bedrooms behind out parents backs. My parents, they’re hardly dictatorial but they like to impose these boundaries because…well, isn’t that what parents do?’_ _ _ _

____Shuffling forward, he takes Brian’s cheek against his hand. Fingers lightly rippling over the other’s skin. He’s like this piece of divinity sent right down to squat inside the asshole of a guy’s body. No. Too harsh. Brian’s not an asshole. Brian’s just…well, Brian. MURR’S pretty sure he’s totally unaware of how he makes other people feel. The intensity of his eyes at the moment for instance- unwavering stare, cupped by an amused mouth on the bottom._ _ _ _

____‘So you, Brian Quinn? Ya freaked out. It’s natural. I….I freaked out too, if I’m honest.’_ _ _ _

____He leans down and replaces one of his fingers with a soft kiss._ _ _ _

______‘But we’re here now, aren’t we?’  
\-----------------------------------------------------  
His nose wrinkles at the word lovers. What century did James grow up in? A smile cracks his face in half and familiar bubbles erupt in the bottom of his belly. Proper cauldron of wants and desires, courtesy of mother nature and father time’s wanton will to destroy him. Or maybe puberty’s his excuse. Eh. _ _

____“I guess.” Murr’s touching him, and in his brain signals are all rerouting themselves to prolong the moment. He takes half a step forward._ _ _ _

_____Oh_. A kiss._ _ _ _

____He wants to bring his hand to his cheek then press it to his lips. The fragile moment perched upon his fingertips. He hopes it to be one of many as they grow older together. Each gorgeously exquisite and revered at the time of their conception. A thousand small gestures to be forgotten in all ways but the growing warmth filling out their chests. Bonded strength stretching out their spines to have them walking proudly. Brian blinks, jumps back through a hundred steps in the grand scheme he has to be in love. “We are here.”_ _ _ _

____He smiles, dumb and cheesy. “Not to fulfill my role as a bad influence on you, but I think it’s okay if you didn’t listen to your folks in this instance. I mean, they didn’t even catch us doing anything. We were half asleep when your Mother walked in the door.” His shoulders move up in a shrug._ _ _ _

____Q elbows him playfully. “Hey, you wanna walk around the city? I know this weird store that sells everything from tuxedos to used porn mags. Don’t ask me how they got’em or in what condition they’re in.” He laughs._ _ _ _


End file.
